Liara woke before dawn, the pendant still clutched in her hand.
She hadn't meant to sleep—only to close her eyes for a moment, to gather her thoughts—but the exhaustion had won. Her limbs felt leaden, but her mind was racing.
The dream hadn't returned.
No figure, no voice.
Just silence and the faint echo of a presence burned into her thoughts.
She sat up slowly, cradling the pendant. It had cooled during the night, but it still pulsed faintly with a rhythm that didn't feel like her own. Not a heartbeat—something older.
She turned it over in her palm.
The symbol etched into it was unlike anything she recognized from the academy libraries. A curved arc, intersected by a crescent and tiny stars. Almost like a constellation… but off, as though from a sky no longer remembered.
She knew she couldn't keep it secret much longer.
The academy was beginning to stir as she slipped through the library doors. Early light spilled in across the marble floor, casting golden streaks between rows of tomes and dusty scrolls. The quiet here was sacred. Safe.
She ducked into the restricted section—not fully off-limits to her anymore, not after everything that had happened—but still not a place she'd visit without cause.
She had one now.
Liara unrolled one of the celestial maps stored in the archives, laying the pendant beside it. The markings didn't match exactly, but the resemblance was close enough to make her stomach tighten.
"A forgotten constellation?" she murmured.
"Or one erased," said a voice behind her.
She jumped.
Aeron stood near the entrance, arms crossed, eyes sharp. "You're up early."
"I could say the same," she said quickly, folding the scroll halfway shut. Too late—he'd already seen the pendant.
He stepped forward. "Where did you get that?"
"It's nothing. Just—just something I found."
Aeron's gaze didn't waver. "That's not an ordinary trinket. It's reacting to your sigils, isn't it?"
Liara hesitated. "You've seen it before?"
"No," he admitted. "But it feels like it doesn't belong here. And neither did whoever gave it to you."
Liara didn't answer.
She wasn't ready to tell anyone about him—not yet. Not until she understood what he was, or why the dream had followed her into wakin.
"I'll figure it out," she said instead. "I just need time."
Aeron's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Just be careful. Power like that… it always asks for something in return."
When he left, the silence crept back.
Liara returned to the pendant, tracing the etching once more. The metal felt warm again. Not from the sun.
From within.
That night, as she closed her eyes again, she clutched it to her chest.
"Come back," she whispered. "Whoever you are… I'm listening."
But only silence answered.
For now.